Chapter Text
Izuku’s movements are sluggish as he puts on his school uniform and gets ready for the day. Aldera Middle School has never been a place Izuku urged to go to, but today it feels a hundred times harder.
Today, he’s going to face the school, his classmates, Kacchan, after receiving the final proof that he can never be a hero.
The UA rejection letter arrived Saturday morning, and Izuku has dreaded going back to school the whole weekend. He tried convincing himself that this is silly, he’s overreacting. He knew he hadn't gotten in UA since the entrance exams when he got “killed” by the giant robots in the first few minutes. And even the moment he got pulled out of the exam wasn’t really surprising to him—a quirkless omega never stood a chance of becoming a hero student.
A part of him hoped getting the letter would be the closing he needed. That he’d be able to let go of his childish dreams and focus on a possible future after being told he’d never study in UA. But what happened is that when he lost hope, he gained shame. Having to face everyone who was right in mocking his dreams isn’t something he feels ready to do.
And yet, he still has to go to school.
Izuku finishes getting ready too late to have breakfast, which doesn’t bother him as he hasn't had an appetite since he got the letter. By the door, his mother awaits him, holding a little bento box with his lunch.
“Good morning, Izuku,” she greets him with a gentle smile. “I added some extra rice balls for you. Please try and eat well.”
“Thanks, mom,” he says, putting the bento in his backpack. “I’m going now.”
“Have a good day!” she bids, too cheerfully for his liking.
His mom was happy when the letter arrived. She tried not letting it show, but her scent couldn’t hide it. His whole life, Izuku related his mother’s happy scent with happiness itself. Now, it smells like defeat, betrayal. How could she be happy his dreams were crushed?
Izuku knows how. She has wanted him to let go of his dreams since he was in kindergarten. His unattainable ambition of being a hero brought her a lot of stress and worry. Izuku should understand his poor mom, should reassure her that he’ll accept his fate now. He should, but what he does is worry her even more by not eating and locking himself away in his room. He’s an awful son.
Mulling over his failures to his mother on the way to school doesn’t make his mood any better when he arrives. A thick cloud of bitter, depressed omega pheromones hovers over his head, strong enough to bypass all the scent patches he wears. And that may be his lucky break.
Izuku is putting his shoes on his cubby when a couple of his classmates approach snickering, undoubtedly getting ready to poke fun at him. But just as one of them opens his mouth to spew venom, he closes it, thinking better of it. Izuku must be a truly pitiful sight if even his bullies feel sorry for him.
In any case, Izuku will take the rare grace he’s offered and rush to the classroom. Overall, people tend to leave him be when the teacher is around and he’s very much counting on that today.
“Hey, Bakugou!” Izuku hears just as he’s about to leave the shoe locker room. “Heard you got into UA! Congrats!”
“Yeah! Don’t you forget about us when you become a famous hero!”
“Get out of my way, extras,” Kacchan grumbles, pushing through their classmates.
Izuku freezes in place, an instinctive reflex to Kacchan’s approach. He looks down to the floor and doesn’t even breathe, half preparing himself for the verbal blows he’s about to receive, half hoping Kacchan is just like a T-rex and will miss him if he doesn’t move.
Kacchan’s footsteps slow down for a split second when he’s in front of Izuku. Time seems to stop. Izuku doesn’t dare to raise his eyes. But then, without saying a word, Kacchan keeps on walking.
Even Kacchan doesn’t think he’s worth teasing anymore.
Izuku stays there in the hallway as that bittersweet realization downs on him. He’s not worth anything to Kacchan anymore, not even the effort to humiliate. This is the first day of the rest of their lives—lives where Izuku doesn’t exist in the same plane of existence as Kacchan. A big fork on the road that takes Kacchan to fulfill his dreams, and Izuku to insignificance.
When Izuku walks into class, he’s welcomed by nothing. It’s like he doesn’t even exist.
Maybe it was better to be bullied.
***
The whole class passes just the same. Izuku is left alone as if he’s not even there. Kacchan ignores everyone who tries complimenting him for getting into UA to the point people start whispering that he already believes himself too good to talk to them.
Their homeroom teacher reminds them of schools whose entrance exams are later, to offer options for those who didn’t get where they wanted for high school. Izuku forces himself to write the name of those schools down on his notebook, knowing that these might be his only options now.
During lunch break, Izuku stays at his desk and forces at least one rice ball down his stomach. He’s still not hungry, but he knows he should eat. He knows he should eat, find another school, and get on with his life. Forget he ever met Kacchan, forget he ever wanted to be a hero, accept the limited options life offers a quirkless omega. It’s time for Izuku to start doing what he must.
When the class ends, Izuku doesn’t know if he could cry in relief or sadness because now he needs to go home, face his mom’s happiness and start looking into his other school options.
He doesn’t get the chance to do either.
“Deku.” Kacchan’s voice reverberates near him. “Come with me.”
Then he turns around and walks out of the classroom.
Izuku trembles in his feet. He doesn’t know what this is, but it can’t be good. Every self-preservation instinct in his body tells him to run away, or at least drop on the floor and play dead.
Unfortunately for his instincts, Izuku never learned to ignore Kacchan.
He follows him through the hallways. Kacchan doesn’t even look back to be sure Izuku is behind him. He doesn’t have to and they both know it.
Every step they take, a part of Izuku’s brain screams at him to turn around and run. They’re going deeper and deeper into the school, the opposite direction of freedom. And since classes ended, the hallways became more deserted.
They finally stop at the end of the road, the school’s rooftop.
Silence stretches heavy and uncomfortable. Kacchan stands there looking at him, which only makes the anxiety inside Izuku grow. He fumbles on his fingers as his mind runs in circles, trying to come up with something to say, something to appease Kacchan somehow, even if he’s not sure what he’s done wrong this time.
“Con—Congratulations on getting into UA,” Izuku stutters. “I always knew you would, I mean, Kacchan is amazing, but still I should say it and—”
“I’m a Prime Alpha,” Kacchan interrupts him.
Izuku nods dumbly. Everybody knows that. It’s a fact that brings both awe and wariness from anyone who meets Kacchan since they were just pups. Prime Alphas are rare, strong, powerful, but they’re also wilder than any other dynamic, more prone to violent outburst and losing control of their inner beasts.
“You know how Primes are considered too unstable to be heroes. In UA, Primes in the hero track have the right of bringing their mates to school to help them,” he continues, making Izuku frown confused. “Their mates get a spot in the General Course if the Prime is in the Hero Course. I’m here to offer you that: if you become my mate, you can study at UA.”
Izuku is speechless. Stunned. He heard the words but they don’t make absolutely any sense. It’s almost as if Kacchan is speaking a whole different language.
“Here is the paperwork,” he says, pushing a folder in Izuku’s hands. “It explains everything you need to know about the UA enrollment. I need your answer until the end of the week so we can get a marriage certificate and turn in all this shit on time.”
And with that, Kacchan turns around and walks away, leaving behind an almost catatonic Izuku.
***
Izuku doesn’t know how he got home that day. He barely remembers trying to eat dinner and going to sleep. The following days pass by in a complete blur—the world goes on as if nothing happened while inside Izuku’s head he feels like he fell into a parallel universe.
At school, Kacchan is the same he was on that fateful day. Quiet, almost taciturn. Ignoring Izuku. It’d be all so easy to convince himself that talk on the rooftop never happened if it wasn’t for the thick envelope waiting for him on his nightstand every day when he comes back home.
It takes Izuku three days until he can gather courage to open the envelope.
There, in crisp white paper and the UA logo he found in his rejection letter, is a lengthy explanation of all the rights and duties of a prime alpha student and their mate. It talks about tuition costs (completely covered for their mate with the prime alpha’s tuition), the allowed schedule for heats and ruts leave, and even some special leniency in case of pregnancy.
Izuku almost throws up when he reads that part.
It’s hard to read the whole thing because his hands shake so much, but he keeps going.
The documents are long and detailed, but the gist of it doesn’t go far from what Kacchan told him: a spot in UA for Izuku if he accepts to become Kacchan’s mate.
Which leaves the question of why does Kacchan want Izuku to be his mate?
That answer isn’t found on the documents.
And in the days before Friday, when Izuku is supposed to give Kacchan his answer, he obsesses over it. The more he thinks, the more Izuku slowly comes to the conclusion that it doesn’t really matter why.
Kacchan made him an offer. It’s up to Izuku to make up his mind on the answer. Simple as that.
At first, it was all he could think about.
Why?
Kacchan hates him. Has hated him for years. He’s the useless quirkless omega that Kacchan is ashamed of even knowing, of ever calling friend.
In the months before the UA entrance exam, Kacchan made his life hell. Every chance he had, he’d crowd Izuku to berate him, threaten him, try to convince him he shouldn’t apply to UA. He made it very, very clear he didn’t want Izuku thinking about trying out on the exam, probably because it’d be embarrassing to have someone find out there was a quirkless omega in the same school a prime alpha with a powerful quirk came from.
Only the very slim hope of getting into his dream school and having the chance of being a hero made Izuku stick to his guts and take the exam.
Just to fail. As people told him he would.
His mother, his teachers… They all told Izuku that trying for UA was a moot point, a quirkless omega would never get into the hero course.
They were right.
And now, he’s faced with the chance of doing just that.
Not the hero course, but still… It’s UA. And Kacchan will be there, working to be a hero, and Izuku…
Izuku has two options.
He can say no to Kacchan, not become the mate of an alpha who is ashamed of him, and go on to live a normal life. Find a school that accepts him, pick a reasonable career, maybe go to college.
Or he can say yes.
Become Kacchan’s mate as he dreamed of when he was just a pup, when the embers of his first love still burned. And he can help Kacchan in his journey to become a hero, just as the papers said. Help him learn to manage his dynamic, control his inner beast to be the best hero he can be. And he can study at UA, meet other heroes in training and all the other students in the Support and Business course that want to work alongside heroes as well. There’s even a possibility for Izuku to change into the Support or Business course if he works hard enough.
It’s not exactly his childhood dream, but it’s as close as it can get.
Or is it?
What’d be like to be mated to someone who hates him?
Being optimistic, maybe Kacchan doesn’t hate him, but he doesn’t like Izuku either. He made it pretty clear.
But if he doesn’t care for Izuku, why would he even give him this chance?
Why?
And then Izuku is stuck back in the why.
Friday comes and Izuku still hasn't got an answer.
He gets up late as he has been doing (it takes him long to fall asleep with the thoughts plaguing his head), then he skips breakfast as it’s become usual (if he eats, he knows he’ll throw up today), and finds his mom awaiting him with a packed bento.
Today, however, her smile is strained.
“Good morning, Izuku,” she says softly. Way too softly. As if she’s talking to a bomb about to blow off.
“Morning, mom,” he answers robotically. “Thanks for the food.”
“It’s nothing, sweety. Please try to eat. You’re wasting away…”
“Haven’t been feeling hungry,” he mumbles, embarrassed.
“I know… I know the rejection from UA hurt you,” she says, for the first time speaking about the elephant in the room since he got the letter. “But, sweetheart, maybe you should see this as an opportunity? A new beginning? You’re such a smart boy, I’m sure you’d be very successful if you dedicated yourself to something else, something more attainable.”
Attainable. Something in his level. Something as unremarkable as he is.
“I’ve got some pamphlets for schools that are still accepting late sign ups,” she continues. “What about we go through them when you come back from school, hm? Then you have the weekend to make up your mind.”
A fork in the road. Two options. None of which would have been Izuku’s choice, but that’s life, isn’t it? You just do the best you can with the options you have.
“Alright, mom. I have to go. Don’t want to be late.”
Time to make up his mind.